


give you the world

by priscilladm



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Brief mention of drugs, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Undercover as a Couple, brief mention of pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28685421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/priscilladm/pseuds/priscilladm
Summary: When the Mustang Unit is tasked with finding a rogue alchemist, Colonel Roy Mustang and First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye reluctantly pose as a couple with a very specific need, in order to find him.
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 14
Kudos: 83





	give you the world

**Author's Note:**

> an expansion of #4 of the "[gifts and trinkets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324401)" drabble collection. title taken from “give you the world” by the DEY. shoutout to the royai support group for putting up with my incessant posting of snippets from this. 💜

When the Mustang Unit was stationed at Eastern Headquarters, their primary goal was to scout for new State Alchemists. Here at Central Command, their primary goals are more targeted: find and apprehend both the scarred killer and rogue alchemists.

Their first assignment is for the capture of the so-called “Candy Alchemist”. (Roy laughs at this moniker; Riza gently lets him know it’s derived from the street name for drugs, not as a joke.) Little is known about the alchemist’s appearance, but the alchemist is supposedly a man in his 30s, likely a transplant from the South. According to the intelligence the unit has been able to gather, he uses alchemy to develop street drugs, which he then sells at the Central Farmers Market.

Roy insists on paying a visit to the farmers market that evening by himself, but Riza shakes her head. “It’s too dangerous for you to go by yourself, Colonel. I also don’t quite think you’re the target audience for their services.”

“She’s got a point, chief.” Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc is standing by the window. He takes a deep drag from the cigarette in his mouth before exhaling out into the open air.

Roy’s brow furrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Riza shrugs, changing the subject and ignoring his indignation. “I need to get a few groceries, so I can at least scope it out. Someone should come with me, though.”

The unit bickers for a while, unable to determine who will accompany Riza on her trip or what the backstory will be. They settle on the idea that Riza and her partner on this mission will be siblings. The only person in the unit who remotely resembles Riza is Havoc and while at first this pairing makes sense, he astutely points out that as the next most skilled marksman, he should be the one keeping watch.

Upon realizing the brother-sister backstory doesn’t work, they turn to the next plausible explanation: marriage. Havoc is no longer in consideration given that he will be monitoring the situation. Warrant Officer Vato Falman is immediately out of the running, lacking the applicable experience to make for a believable husband. Similarly, Master Sergeant Kain Fuery looks too young to be married at all, so he’s tasked with setting up their communication instead.

At first it seems like Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda is the best choice to go into the field with Riza, but he argues that he needs to gather further intelligence in the field beforehand and advise her instead.

Her brows furrow suspiciously. “You’re not all suggesting I do this with the Colonel, are you? We just agreed that no one would want to talk to him.”

“The way you two argue, you’re practically married, so you won’t have to do much acting,” Havoc points out, rubbing his temple with the heel of his hand. “People would probably talk to a guy with a nice wife. Plus, it’s not as dangerous if he’s with his bodyguard.”

Roy and Riza sigh in unison, somehow relieving the tension in the room. They all laugh heartily for what feels like the first time since the murder of Maes Hughes.

—

The workday is coming to a close, and the unit is putting the finishing touches on their plan for this evening’s mission.

Fuery has already bugged the stand that the Candy Alchemist supposedly works out of, and also has a wire on each member of the team, so he will monitor the communications from the office. Falman will remain in the office with him on standby near Roy’s phone line, ready to call for backup or any other additional assistance if necessary. Havoc is stationed atop the building where the market is set up this evening, keeping close watch behind a sniper rifle. Breda is already at the market in disguise, posing as a single man in search of a remedy to assist him with focus at work; he’ll go to Madame Christmas’ bar afterwards to rendezvous with Roy and Riza, who are already there, before meeting up with Fuery at a hideout.

The bar isn’t open for business yet, so after dressing in civilian clothing in two separate changing rooms, Roy and Riza sit at the bar as Christmas pours them each a glass of wine.

“Typically I wouldn’t recommend drinking before a mission, but this one’s a little different,” Christmas states gruffly as she slides the glasses across the table. “If you two want to be a convincing couple, you need to loosen up just a little.”

Roy looks at her skeptically. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not colonel and lieutenant for this mission. You have to be a couple in love with each other.” Christmas pauses briefly. “Is that really all you’ve come up with for a backstory?”

The soldiers exchange worried looks, then nod slowly at Christmas, who squints back at them.

“And pray tell, why would a charming young couple such as yourselves be looking for drugs?”

In hindsight, this makes sense. Most young, happy couples in Central don’t need or even want drugs. Certainly not Gracia and Maes Hughes—they’d have a glass or two of wine when they would tag along at the bar with the Mustang unit before Elicia came along, but otherwise, Riza never knew them to need anything but good food and good company. They’d loved each other so dearly that being together was the most important thing. (She knows what it’s like to love someone more than anything else, but it’s not quite the same when she can’t be with that person.)

“Riza, honey, I don’t blame you for not thinking of this,” Christmas says reassuringly to the blonde before shifting her eyes back to Roy. “But your colonel should know better.”

After further discussion, the three of them settle on some more details of their backstory. Roy is an amateur alchemist who works at a library, and Riza is an aspiring painter who stays at home. They’ve been trying to conceive but have had some difficulty, and as a result are looking for a solution that might finally help them get pregnant.

Riza blushes. Not only does she have to pretend to be Roy’s wife, but she also has to pretend that they’re planning out a life together—a life including a child. It’s the complete opposite of the life she has known, but unbeknownst to anyone, she’s spent many days and nights over the years thinking about what it would be like for her to marry Roy, live together, raise children together. Sometimes she’s embarrassed by how much she yearns for such a domestic, simple life; other times, she’s ashamed that such thoughts even cross her mind when she’s cut those dreams short for countless others.

Still, this doesn’t change the fact that she pines, painfully, for a life where she can feel the warmth of her hand in his, or lean her head on his shoulder, or give him a kiss on the forehead when he’s having a bad day. She’d give anything to be able to do that anywhere, but even here in the privacy of Christmas’ bar, there are some rules that simply can’t be broken, some words that can’t be said.

The door opens and at first Christmas gestures to tell the visitor off, but upon realizing it’s Breda, she ignores him and continues wiping the dishes at the bar.

Taking the seat next to Roy, Breda launches into the details he’s been able to surmise at the market. First he removes a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. The packaging is similar to what is readily available at grocery stores and looks to be nothing special, but he tells them that these cigarettes are laced with opium, obtained by an associate of the Candy Alchemist.

According to Breda, the stand sells herbs for planting like rosemary, thyme, and oregano. There’s also an assortment of teas available for sale: herbal, fruit-forward, etc. The woman at the stand is discreet and never offers anything suspicious outright, instead following the customer’s lead.

“Did you meet the alchemist?” Roy asks.

Breda shakes his head. “Sorry, chief. The person at the booth said he usually only talks to his regulars, his repeat customers.”

Christmas clears her throat and turns to join the conversation. “Hate to be like this, but the girls and I are opening in 15.”

Roy nods. “We’re ready. Thanks as always, Madame Christmas.”

The market isn’t far from Christmas’ bar, but the location is clearly a far cry from the type of establishment a young couple would frequent, so the three of them slip away through the back door of the bar. (Christmas is generous enough to grant use of this emergency exit to maintain a level of discretion, and the entire unit is immensely grateful, especially Riza and Roy.)

Once they reach an appropriate distance from the bar, Breda excuses himself, allowing the undercover pair to start their portion of the mission. Making their way towards the market, Riza is startled when Roy reaches for her hand.

Sensing her hesitation, he frowns and pulls it away. “Elizabeth, did I do something to upset you?”

“Not at all, Baron,” she answers, using the sticky sweet, charming voice of her Elizabeth persona. Continuing to play the part, she reaches back for her colonel’s ungloved hand and interlaces her fingers in his, standing closer to him. “It’s just been a long day.”

The last time she felt his touch was when he helped her with the healing process of burning her back. This time is different in the sense that it’s far more gentle, but it’s still a reminder of all the things she’s wanted in life that she hasn’t been able to have. That said, she savors the feel of his smooth, warm hand, often protected by the elements by gloves. It’s the complete opposite of her hands, callused from regular practice at the shooting range.

“I’m sure of it,” Roy answers, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss onto the back of her hand. “Now, what groceries did you say we needed?

Roy’s tenderness throws off Riza’s usual composure; she’s so tongue tied and flustered that she can barely choke out a response to his question. “Fruit. Some other things too.”

Riza fights the smile that desperately wants to spread across her face. This is the domesticity she’s longed for, for many years: the ability to go to the market together, fingers interlaced, buying ingredients for dinner. In their adolescence she’d had a hint of this, when he’d sneak her a quick and innocent kiss on the cheek at the beginning of the new year when her father wasn’t around, but so much has transpired for both of them since the carefree days of their youth.

As they make their way to the fruit stand, Riza gradually realizes that she hasn’t brought a thick enough jacket, shivering slightly. They’ve barely been in Central for a few weeks, and she still isn’t used to the chillier temperatures. She crosses her arms and rubs them, hopping to generate some heat.

“Are you cold, sweetheart?” Roy asks tenderly, turning to meet her gaze directly. Usually his tone is much more coy and suggestive when talking to informants or Elizabeth, but his words are truly warm—in fact, if this were a normal circumstance instead of an undercover mission, it could easily be mistaken for genuine affection and love.

Riza’s heart aches at his words, knowing that it’s all a ruse, but she shrugs and puts on a weak smile. “It’s a little colder than I thought it would be tonight, dear.”

Roy removes his jacket and places it over her shoulders without a word.

“No need, sir,” Riza whispers into his ear. After all, it’s her fault that she didn’t dress adequately for this mission, and she doesn’t want to inconvenience him just because she didn’t think ahead. She motions to take it off and return it to him, but he frowns.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you a coat as we were leaving, dear. How careless of me.” Leaning in closer to her, he whispers, “Hang on to it. I have too many.”

The jacket is warm and smells deeply of her colonel, of sandalwood and just a little bit of ash. It’s a nicer civilian jacket that he wears when the team meets up for drinks on weekends, and she’s always admired the way it’s tailored just right. Though neither of them have much use for civilian clothing anymore, she admires his ability to always look perfectly put-together no matter what he’s wearing.

They arrive at the fruit stand and Riza points out the items she needs with a little more lucidity: spinach, carrots, apples, and oranges here; bread, honey and butter at another stand; and finally, some herbal tea (their true mission). At the first stand, she gestures to pay for her purchases but Roy places his hand on her arm and stops her when she reaches into her bag for her wallet.

“I know you just sold a painting recently, but what kind of husband would I be if I made you pay for the groceries?” he admonishes gently. “That’s your hard earned money.”

She huffs slightly, torn about whether or not this is ok, as Roy fiddles in his breast pocket to fish out some coins. The shopkeeper laughs off their argument as charming.

Riza scolds herself—after all, Roy is simply playing the part of a husband for the sake of their mission. Still, it feels good to not have to do everything on her own, so when they get to the next stand, she doesn’t even put up a fight as Roy pays the attendant for a loaf of bread, a fresh jar of butter, and some honey. He’s elated at her resignation and grins deeply as he hands her the set of items they purchased, and she registers his reaction as genuine by the way he looks slightly stupid and awkward, instead of calculated and flirtatious. It’s the same smile he’d give her when they were children, when he’d use alchemy to make something for her or win a game they were playing. She hardly sees it anymore. Not after the murder of Maes Hughes.

From there, they make their way to the stand that the Candy Alchemist supposedly runs his operation out of, a booth selling herbal remedies and teas. The person working the stand is a woman with tan skin, dark eyes, and dark hair in a braid. She’s wearing a checkered apron and doesn’t look like she’s much older than Riza.

“Anything I can help you with?” the shopkeeper asks.

Roy leans in closer to Riza and wraps his arm around her waist. “My wife and I are looking for something very specific.”

“I’ll see what I can do!” the shopkeeper responds cheerily. “I’m Allison. What’s your name, what are you looking for?”

Riza smiles. “I’m Elizabeth, and this is my husband Baron. We’ve been trying to have a baby, for over a year, and we haven’t had any luck.”

Allison frowns back at her sympathetically. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Elizabeth. We have plenty of teas, for both men and women, that are meant to help kickstart that process.” She reaches under the table on display and pulls out a bottle. “These are red raspberry leaves, which we sell to future mothers! Our customers have had a lot of success with using them to kickstart fertility.”

Roy sighs exasperatedly. “We’ve tried teas, including that one, and they haven’t seemed to work. Our doctor hasn’t been able to find anything wrong either—says we’re both healthy as they come. We’ve been planning around Elizabeth’s cycle and somehow that hasn’t helped, either.” He leans in close to the shopkeeper. “Do you happen to have anything a little stronger?”

“I’m sorry, sir. You’d have to ask your pharmacist if you’re looking for something else.”

Riza purses her lips in feigned disappointment. “We’ve had a hard time trusting conventional doctors and medicine,” she chimes in. “They don’t seem to understand or care much about us. My husband has been trying to learn alchemy to find something more helpful, but… sorry honey, you’re not that great of an alchemist.”

She tries hard to hold back a chuckle as Roy gives her a grumpy look. She’s met many alchemists, both from the Ishvalan War and from business as usual in the East and Central; in reality, no one is nearly as skilled and brilliant as her colonel.

The shopkeeper’s nose scrunches as she contemplates the circumstances. “200 cenz,” she whispers, so low that Roy and Riza can barely hear her. “If you can give me that right now, I’ll go inside and get something special for you.”

Roy hurriedly pulls out the appropriate coins from his breast pocket, eagerly playing the part of a desperate husband. Allison counts the change and once she confirms the proper amount, she quickly disappears into the building behind the shop.

“Told you they’d want to talk to me,” he whispers in her ear.

The sensation of his breath along her neck sends shivers up her spine, but Riza rolls her eyes and refuses to let the feeling distract her from their mission. “Don’t get too in over your head, sir. She just wants to help a nice woman out.”

Before Roy can think of a comeback, the woman returns with a wide glass vial tied with string and filled with small, round pills. “Take one first thing in the morning and one at lunchtime. You should be pregnant in no time.”

“Allison, you have no idea how much this means to us,” Riza tells her, making a mental note to set the evidence aside in the office. (They don’t offer a receipt, and the bottle doesn’t indicate any type of branding, which is much smarter than other illegal operations they’ve seen over the years.)

“Please come back and let us know how it works out for you,” Allison says, retaining her low volume. “It’s important to us that we take care of our customers.”

—

“We’re going to wait a little while until we come back to the stand,” Roy announces to the unit when they gather at the end of the evening.

The men begin to grumble, arguing that they’ve accumulated enough evidence to make a conviction. The colonel reminds them that, although that may be the case, they still haven’t been able to coax the Candy Alchemist out of hiding.

“How do you plan on getting him out in front of you, chief? He’s been so careful about not being seen,” Breda points out.

“Don’t worry about it, Breda. We just need to bide our time a bit more. It makes sense with our cover,” he explains, making eye contact with Riza.

She blushes and averts her gaze quickly. Clearing her throat, she makes her way to the bookcase and absentmindedly organizes the books. (The only person who knows the full extent of their cover story is Fuery, who has spent the entire evening monitoring communications, but Riza is confident that he won’t share the finer details.)

When all is said and done, she tries to give Roy his coat back before she leaves, but he steadfastly refuses, even when she points out that she can wear her uniform jacket.

Upon arriving in her apartment for the evening, she brings the jacket to her nose and inhales the scent deeply before hanging it in the corner of her closet reserved for formalwear and other clothes that require special care. She vows to always keep it in the best shape she can.

—

Six weeks later, Riza and Roy visit the booth undercover again.

Allison is still maintaining the shop, and she recognizes the two as they pretend to walk around casually.

“Hey you two!” she calls out excitedly, waving them down. “Baron and Elizabeth, right?”

They approach the booth and Riza places her hand at the top of her stomach. “Is your boss around? We just found out we’re expecting, and I want to thank him personally for his help.”

Allison beams from ear to ear. “I’m so happy for you two! Let me see if I can get him. I’ll be right back.”

She disappears into a building, and when she comes back she’s accompanied by a husky man of average height, with light skin, red hair, and freckles all over his face and hands. He’s wearing round glasses that overwhelm his face, and a lab coat covering the rest of his clothing.

“I hear from Allison that you’re pleased with my offerings.” His voice is deep and he speaks almost in a whisper, no doubt due to the nature of their interaction. “Congratulations on your pregnancy. My name is Richard, the alchemist in charge here. I hope we can continue to provide the services you need.”

Roy nods. “Thanks for giving me exactly what we needed.” He fiddles around in his breast pocket and fishes out his State Alchemist pocket watch. It usually is looped around his belt buckle, but when he’s undercover he keeps it out of sight until he needs it. Flashing the pocket watch, he smirks. “Richard and Allison, you’re both under arrest for drug trafficking.”

The two criminals abandon the booth and turn to run in opposite directions, but they’re stopped by military police officers who quickly surround all directions. The officers move swiftly, placing both the alchemist and his shopkeeper in handcuffs.

Meanwhile, Roy and Riza continue strolling casually around the market, attempting to blend in and look as normal as possible. It really doesn’t make much sense to Riza: after all, they just assisted in the arrest of a criminal, and she’s painfully aware of the public’s fear of the military, so she anticipates that the other shopkeepers might be reluctant to see or serve them. She attempts to bring this to Roy’s attention, but he waves her concerns away.

“Just one more stop tonight, Elizabeth.”

He leads her to a flower stand, run by a short and plump older woman. The stand is peppered in daisies, sunflowers, lilies, roses, and all sorts of rare flowers. The shopkeeper is terrified and explains that she’s simply a florist who has nothing to hide, but Roy reassures her that they’re not here to cause any trouble or make any more arrests.

“Did you really have to arrest the shopkeeper?” Riza asks with a sigh, loud enough for the shopkeeper to hear. “For all we know, she was coerced.”

Roy throws his hands up and shrugs. “That’s for the police to figure out.” He points to the dahlias on display. “These are still your favorites, right?”

Riza chuckles in amusement as they walk away from the booth. “You still remember, after all these years?”

“I’d buy these for you every day if I could, Elizabeth. I’d give you the world.” He grazes her knuckles with his fingertips slightly, innocently enough that military personnel would never recognize this as anything more than an accident.

Still, Riza knows him better than anyone, and there’s no mistaking the meaning behind both his words and his actions. She interlaces her fingers with his and squeezes his hand ever so slightly in acknowledgment before pulling away. “How many times do I have to remind you that I don’t own a flower vase?”

He gives her a playful glare, but doesn’t acknowledge her comment, instead picking out a single dahlia from the bunch. Paying the shopkeeper for the flower, he asks her to trim the stem, and when she’s done the two make their way out of the market.   


“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not your husband, since I can’t even buy you something to put flowers in,” he says, grinning sheepishly. “At least you can keep it here.” He takes the short flower and tucks it behind Riza’s ear.

“Does it look good?” she asks, her voice faltering slightly. Usually she doesn’t care what others think of her appearance, but her colonel isn't just another person. Especially not now.

He brushes her bangs out of her eyes. “It’s fine, but the dahlia is nothing compared to you, Hawkeye.”

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve wanted to write more fics using the elizabeth cover, so here’s one! riza’s persona as elizabeth is sort of flirty and suggestive in the canon so i wanted to do the complete opposite and make it domestic and fluffy instead. i chose the codename "baron" for roy because it's a royal name, just like his real name.
> 
> i'm also on [tumblr](https://priscilla-dm.tumblr.com) if you want to yell about royai with me 🥰


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